


Pi Day

by cipherwriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen, just a silly little fic about pie and pi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 13:14:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30039228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cipherwriter/pseuds/cipherwriter
Summary: The gang—most importantly, Dean—is going to get a free pie today, even if the reason they’re getting it is for dumb math.“I think there should be a holiday that’s all about pie—good old, sweet, American pie—without the nerds ruining it and making it all about some dumb number. No offense.”“The number part of the holiday came before the dessert part, actually, so if anything it’s the dessert that’s ruining the number holiday,” Sam points out.“Ooohh, I am gonna pretend I didn’t just hear you imply that pie could ruin anything,” Dean says, indignation in his voice. “It’s pie, Sam. Pie.”
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Pi Day

**Author's Note:**

> happy pi day everyone! my college is selling pies today and when my roommate and i ordered one i was like “for dean winchester <3” and my roommate glared at me. hope you’re all having a similar experience today
> 
> also, sam uses they/them pronouns in this fic, just as a heads up

“You know, we could stop at a grocery store or something,” Sam says, looking over the diner menu. “We’ve been on this case for a couple days already and I’m getting a bit tired of wilted salads in greasy diners.” 

“Yeah, well then maybe you should try ordering something other than salads,” Dean answers, looking over his own menu as though he’s really deliberating it when they all know he’s just going to order the bacon cheeseburger. “Get some actual food into you for once.”

“I agree with Sam, Dean. You are well on your way to developing scurvy,” Cas interjects. He reads his menu as well, because he likes to find ridiculous names for meals at diners. Little mom and pop places like this tend to do that kind of thing. So far his favorite was the “Bug in a Rug” from a diner in Texas, which was a stack of pancakes with honey. He had even ordered a stack just to admire the little bee design the chef drew with the honey on the top pancake in the stack.

“You don’t get a vote, Cas; you don’t eat,” Dean says. “Look, when we get back to the bunker you can go grocery shopping all you want. Hell, I’ll even drive you to some vegan, organic whatever place if it’ll make you happy. But right now, on a case? We’re going to diners. That’s how it works.”

Sam rolls their eyes and is about to argue back, but they’re cut off by the waitress, a young woman with shoulder length curly hair and an equally bouncy attitude, coming over.

“Heya, folks! How are we doing today?” she greets with a bright smile.

“We are all doing just fine,” Dean’s eyes flit to her name tag, “Jeanie.” He gives her his signature charming smile.

Sam, for their part, gives a strained, significantly less charming smile. Cas gives a small, sweet, and significantly more endearing smile.

“Great!” Jeanie says. “So, before you folks make your orders, I just wanna let you know about today’s specials! Our soup of the day is potato bacon, our salad is a chicken Caesar salad, and we’ve got some really great dessert specials for Pi Day-“

“Pie day?” Dean asks, perking up like a dog hearing the word “walk.”

“Yeah, Dean, Pi Day. 3/14, like 3.14?” Sam says. Dean looks at them blankly. “Come on, dude, you have to know pi. It’s basic geometry.”

“What do I need geometry for?” Dean asks, incredulous, as though he is being personally offended by this conversation. “I just like pie.”

“Well, then, you’re in luck!” Jeanie says, finally finding a way to jump back into the conversation. “We have half off pie slices, and if you can recite the most numbers of pi, you get a whole free pie!”

“Well, I most definitely cannot,” Dean says. “How much do you know, Sammy? You get this kind of stuff.”

“I’m mostly a humanities person, Dean,” Sam laughs. “I just know, like, the most basic rules of math, it’s not like it’s my area of expertise.”

Dean glares at them. “Alright, college grad, no need to show off.”

“Dean, Sam, I believe I could be of assistance,” Cas says at last. He looks up at Jeanie. “I can list the most numbers of pi.”

“You sound pretty confident there,” Jeanie laughs. “Are you a mathematician or something?”

“I am an- no, I am not supposed to say that,” Cas says, cutting himself off. Then, thoughtfully, he says, “I am simply very good with math.”

“Well, alrighty then! If you want to compete, fill out this card with your name and some contact info, so at the end of the day we can let you know if you beat all our other customers.” Jeanie hands Cas a little slip of paper she’d stored away in her notebook. It has a line for his name, two points of contact, and the number of digits he’ll have recited “In the meantime, I’ll take your other orders.”

Jeanie leaves to get Dean his burger and Sam their salad (they ordered the chicken Caesar salad at Dean’s insistence that they get at least some protein), and Cas regards the slip of paper. “Which phone number should I write? We have so many.”

“This seems like it might be more work than it’s worth. I mean, pie is really easy to get, and we could be out of here any time,” Sam says. “I, for one, don’t want to stay in town any longer than we have to just to pick up a free pie. Hell, I’ll just buy one when we get back.”

Dean stares at Sam, open-mouthed. Finally, he pulls himself together enough to say, “Really, Sam? You’re really gonna turn down free pie? Really? Where’s your holiday spirit?”

“Right, cause you’re so in tune with the spirit of the holiday for math.” Sam rolls their eyes. “Besides, it’s not like it’s _just_ a free pie, it’s a free pie you have to work for.”

“Oh, it will be very little effort, if that is something you’re worried about,” Cas says. “I can recite a hypothetically infinite number of digits of pi.”

“Is that some sort of angel thing?” Dean asks.

“Yes, of course. It’s not as though I chose to memorize all digits of pi while I was human,” Cas answers, a bit baffled and a bit mocking. Dean throws his hands up a little in joking surrender, eyebrows raised. Cas continues, “I have some innate mathematical ability as an angel, and pi is a very important number.”

Sam looks smugly at Dean. “Hear that, Dean? ‘A very important number.’”

“Ah shut up, Sam, you barely know it either. Don’t see how some number could be so special anyway. And before you get any ideas, either of you, I _don’t_ want you to explain it to me.”

“Of course, I mean, why would you want to know anything outside of monsters and cowboy movies?” Sam mocks.

Dean smirks and clicks his tongue as he points at Sam. “Exactly.” 

“And if there’s another holiday like this?” Cas asks. “What if I’m not here? You will need to know the digits of pi, or whatever the mathematical concept at play then is.”

“I hate to break it to you, Cas, but there ain’t a lot of holidays about math,” Dean tells him.

Cas frowns. “That’s a shame. This is such a charming holiday. I believe there are many more numbers and mathematical concepts which are deserving of their own holidays, as well. I, personally, am particularly fond of the derivative.”

Sam huffs out a little half laugh as Dean shakes his head a bit. “I’m glad you’re having a good time, Cas, but I haven’t talked about math this much at once since high school. I think there should be a holiday that’s all about pie—good old, sweet, American pie—without the nerds ruining it and making it all about some dumb number. No offense.”

“The number part of the holiday came before the dessert part, actually, so if anything it’s the dessert that’s ruining the number holiday,” Sam points out.

“Ooohh, I am gonna pretend I didn’t just hear you imply that pie could ruin anything,” Dean says, indignation in his voice. “It’s pie, Sam. _Pie._ ”

“Yeah, dude, I know what pie is,” Sam says slow, like he’s talking to an idiot. If anyone’s the idiot, in Dean’s book, it’s Sam, for not getting the importance of pie.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter if we’re out of town before we can get it,” Sam continues. “Cas, you should just put down the motel phone number, I guess, and if we’re still there when they call we’ll get the pie. If not, I’ll just buy you one at home, Dean, it’s not a big deal.” 

Dean decides to drop it and not start a fight over the statement that pie is “not a big deal,” because he knows Sam’s solution is the most practical. He can be big like that.

When Jeanie returns with the food for Sam and Dean (who immediately digs in), Cas has finished carefully and deliberately filling out the card. 

“So, you ready to try? No checking your phone or anything, obviously,” Jeanie laughs.

“I am ready. Tell me when you would like me to start and stop,” Cas answers.

“Oh, no, the whole point is to go on as long as you can,” Jeanie says, a slightly confused little chuckle in her words.

“Believe me, you’re gonna want to tell him when to stop,” Sam insists. 

“Alright,” Jeanie says slowly. “I’ll let you know if I feel like I have to.”

Castiel nods once, and, once Jeanie has loaded up the digits of pi on her phone to verify he’s right and has told him to go, he begins listing, in a clear and steady voice, “3.14159265…” 

Dean and Sam make brief eye contact and smirk as Jeanie goes from looking a little indulgent, like she does not even slightly believe Cas’s very confident assertions of his knowledge, to slightly impressed, to very impressed, to truly astounded.

By the time Jeanie actually tells him to stop, over seven minutes have passed and the other inhabitants of the diner have long since ceased other activity to listen to (and whisper about and take phone video of) Cas’s unrelenting spew of numbers. Jeanie probably only stops Cas when she does because she’s realized by then that she really did have to stop him, because it wouldn’t be his own knowledge running out that would do it. Even Sam and Dean, knowing their friend’s many capabilities, find themselves pretty impressed, and they clap and whoop along with the rest of the diner when he stops.

It turns out they needn’t have worried about which phone number to put on the paper Jeanie gave them, because she just gives them the pie (an apple crumble, as per their—mostly Dean’s—choice) as they walk out. In retrospect, they should have expected this to happen. There was no imaginable way someone else would come into this little local diner later and somehow surpass Cas’s knowledge.

The restaurant workers also ask for Cas’s picture for their wall of fame. Dean and Sam crash the picture, too, both of them wearing goofy smiles as Dean puts bunny ears up behind Cas’s head and Sam wraps their arm around his shoulder. Cas has his own little closed lip smile, just as happy to anyone who knows him. 

When the three of them are back in the Impala, pie boxed and held securely in Sam’s lap in the passenger seat, Dean looks back at Cas and says, faux-sternly, “I don’t care what’s going on, I don’t care where any of us are, I don’t even care if we hate each other at the time—you, Cas, are going to be with us on Pi Day every year from now on. We are gonna get a free pie every year.”

“So, does this mean you‘ve gotten over your little vendetta against math?” Sam asks. 

“Hell no, Sammy, who do you think I am?” Dean looks over at Sam, offended. “I still hate math. But, by winning this contest with Cas’s angel mojo, we’re keeping a free pie from some normal nerd who memorized a bunch of numbers. This victory is actually anti-math.”

Sam rolls their eyes, but they can’t help laughing at that.

Cas, from the backseat, says, “I believe humans should have more holidays about math and other universal laws. It is very endearing how you will celebrate things woven into the very fabric of all existence.”

“We can pick out a day to celebrate derivatives for you if you want, Cas,” Sam says. “It’ll be like your birthday. We’ll have a holiday for whatever you want it to be about each year.”

“I don’t believe that is how holidays typically work, but I think I would like that,” Cas replies with a smile.

And when Cas explains his favorite math concepts the next week, like waves and imaginary numbers, even Dean tries to pay attention. It helps that there’s still a slice of pie left for him as he listens.

**Author's Note:**

> as you can see, i took high school calculus and have not done anything math related in the year since


End file.
